<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dear Jean Kirschtein by HitchStein</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29590677">Dear Jean Kirschtein</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitchStein/pseuds/HitchStein'>HitchStein</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Based on a Dear Evan Hansen Song, Dear Evan Hansen References, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Musical References, Musicals, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:06:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29590677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HitchStein/pseuds/HitchStein</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirschtein has broken his arm.<br/>That's not the perfect way to start a new year at College, but things get even more complicated when the letter he had to write to himself gets lost. His biggets fear? That [y/n], his crush since first year, finds the letter before he does.<br/>Yes! This is based on Dear Evan Hansen: The Musical! Enjoy the ride!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jean Kirstein/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Letter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks for reading!<br/>This is my first full English fic, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!<br/>As you know, this fic is based on the musical Dear Evan Hansen, a story I deeply love. However, I changed the version so the story is less *dramatic*. I also thought Floch would be the perfect brother nobody would want but, at the end, still love (at least in this universe). If you haven't watch the Musical yet, I highly recommend it, as well as listening to the songs while you are reading this.<br/>Without more delay, here's Dear Jean Kirschtein: The Musical!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Jean Kirschtein:</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Turns out today wasn’t an amazing day after all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because… because why would it be?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh I know, because I love [y/n], who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But, maybe, maybe if I could just talk to her…  </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>maybe nothing will be different at all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish everything was different.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish anything I said… just mattered to anyone.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I mean, face it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Would anyone even notice if I just… disappeared tomorrow?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sincerely, your best and most dearest friend, me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean took a look at his note and shook his head. What was he thinking? Well, that surely was the most sincere thing he had said to himself in a long time, but just reading it out loud… hitted different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept the note inside his pocket and started walking through the hall when he bumped in into Floch. “Look where you’re going, Kirschtein”. Jean sighed as he watched how his materials fell to the floor, he was already late for Illustration class, so he had to pick up his stuff quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” He recognised a familiar voice and looked up just to find your face a few inches away. He was gazing into your eyes when he felt a sudden burn all over his face. “Yeah, don’t worry, I’m just-”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about him”, you said, as you started helping him gathering his things up; “my brother is kind of a jerk. I hope he didn’t hurt you”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all”, Jean put on a weak smile. “Thanks for helping me”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t have to! Oh, is your arm okay? What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this? Long story short… I fell from a tree” He laughed nervously but you couldn’t keep your eyes away from his smile. It was so bright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I hope you don’t fall from trees that often, um…  Jean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Jean! I mean, yeah, me too”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You smiled. “I’m [y/n], by the way”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?” You couldn’t help but to laugh softly. The boy looked as red as the Sun, but you just acted naturally. “I hope we can talk again soon, Jean”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… me too” The both of you smiled as you handed him his last sketchbook. Then, before you knew, he whispered your name. “Yes…?” You asked, your face turning red. “Would you, um, </span>
  <em>
    <span>-god dammit Kirschtein, just ask her-. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I mean, which major are you in?” Your eyes shone as you cast a wide smile: “Philosophy! See you around, Jean!”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Classes finished and Jean didn’t make it to finish a single project. Working with just one hand was hard, but he knew that was not an excuse for some professors. He aimed for a full scholarship in Fine Arts, but Jean also wanted to graduate</span>
  <em>
    <span> cum laude</span>
  </em>
  <span> and open his own gallery once he finished college. But oh, dreams existed just to be dreamed, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean was almost leaving when someone called his name. It was the boy he encountered before. “Hey, sorry ‘bout before. By the way, what happened to your arm?” Jean was shocked and confused by his sudden interest. Did [y/n] tell him about you? “Well, I… I fell from a tree”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? That’s lame, bro”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, right?” Despite all odds, they both laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about your cast? Nobody has signed yet? That’s sad”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to put it like that…” Jean huffed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I’m also lame. Here, lemme, I’ll sign. This way we can both pretend we have friends”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends, I just haven’t seen them yet”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure. Here” Floch wrote his name on the whole arm, making sure he didn’t leave any space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great… thank you, Floch”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem. Oh, I found this… letter? I think you dropped it before, when we crashed. It's yours, right? It says- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Jean Kirschtein</span>
  </em>
  <span>…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t read that! It’s private!” Jean tried to take the note back, but with only one hand he wasn’t fast enough. Floch’s eyes devoured the note in a second. “Wow, you’re really fucked up. Wait… is this about my sister? Did you write this creep shit so I would read it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wrote this on purpose so I would freak out and beat your ass! Then everyone would know I’m a lost case!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? What the hell are you talking about!? That’s private, give it back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you!” Floch grasped the note fiercely and ran away. With Jean’s letter. The letter that contained everything. His feelings. His fears. His love for… you. He was screwed.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Waving through a window</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jean hadn’t slept in days. He still couldn’t believe that, from all people, it was his crush's brother who found his note. And, just to make things worse, he hadn't seen Floch in days. Although, three days for a person who usually skips classes wasn’t that alarming after all. He was just probably on a savage trip with… Jean remembered then that Floch didn’t have friends. Fuck. Anyway, Jean should probably talk to you before Floch did. He wasn’t even sure of what happened to the letter, but he felt that nothing good would come out of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he could even walk in class, the Dean called for him. Apparently, someone wanted to talk to him. Oh god, was it because of the letter? Did Floch show it to anyone? Or worse, did he post it online? Jean was scared af, but he decided to act normal. When he walked into the Dean’s office, he found two adults waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you Jean Kirchstein?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was as confused as he could be. “Yes….?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We'll… we are Floch’s parents, we wanted to see you”.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Crap</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is anything… wrong?” Jean asked, as he seated in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This… is for you”, the woman took a wrinkled paper and smoothed it out. “Floch had it with him when he had… the accident. We… we thought…”. The man held her hand kindly and took the note from her. “We thought that you’d like to read it”, he added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean took the note and read it as fast as he could. Just as he thought, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>letter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t know that you were friends”, the lady said, softly sobbing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Friends? You think we were friends?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you were. He wrote that letter to you, didn’t he?” The man pointed to the letter. “He told you about his deepest thoughts so you must be close friends. It's here, it’s addressed to you- ‘Dear Jean Kirschtein’” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that letter, that's not- it’s just-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
"Honey, look!" Floch's mother pointed at your arm. "Floch signed his cast... You two must be really close friends". </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, right, the cast!" Jean laughed nervously. He would never have thought that the situation could go like that. "Wait. Did you say accident? What happened to Floch? Is he… okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know?” The father sighed. “Three days ago, he went out at night. Apparently, he drank too much and… had a car accident. He’s in the hospital now. The doctors say he will recover eventually, but…” he took a deep, long, breath. “Right now, he’s in a coma. We know he will recover but… we just don’t know when”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean felt such a mix of emotions he felt he was going to implode. He felt worried, relieved, guilty, worried again? “Listen, I’m really, really sorry, but… Floch didn’t write that letter, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean he didn’t write it? He had the note with him, there are his memories! What if he doesn’t remember us when he wakes up!? Or you!? Or- ” The woman started crying as her husband hugged her. Jean felt really bad and stressed, so he gave his letter to Floch’s mother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here… you can take it. If… in case he really doesn’t remember anything once he wakes up, you can always show him this. It’s okay, you can have it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you…” The woman slowly accepted and saved that letter like a treasure. Jean didn’t have the courage to tell the truth about that day, so he hoped at least that letter comforted the woman until her son woke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to come for dinner?” The father asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me? For dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are staying at our daughter's apartment for a few days. She said we didn’t have to come to the city, but at times like this… it’s important that we know we are not alone. I know Floch would have loved that you stayed with us, at least for tonight. It’s the least we can do for his best friend”. The mother smiled with real gratitud in her eyes, so, without knowing how, Jean accepted. It was only one dinner, one night. After that, he would never have to see them again. What could go wrong?</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean was already heading home when he found you at the backyard of the Arts &amp; Humanity building. After everything that happened, at least he wanted to talk to you. Not because he wanted (although he did), but because he was worried about how you were doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were sitting under a huge tree, reading a book with a red cover. Your hair was tied on a low bun and a poncho covered your shoulders. Jean felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as he approached you. Was his face turning red, or was it just a reflection of the sun?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Jean! Come, sit here”. You waved at him and made room for two on your blanket. He stared blank for a moment. Did you just… notice him first? And called him by his name? Maybe he wasn’t that invisible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat down at your side. He thought that you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>close, but the blanket was made for one, after all. He could smell the lavender and incense of your hair.  “It’s a beautiful day… isn’t it?” Your eyes were lost in the sky. You were trying to capture the colour of the sky forever. You’ve always wondered how it could be possible for a non-existing place to be that blue. However, Jean’s eyes were gazing at you: “Yes, it’s beautiful indeed”.  You turned your head towards him and your eyes met. Jean’s heart skipped a bit. But you, you just smiled. You’ve always thought that his hazel eyes had something special, like gold or honey, and now, just looking at them from so close, you could swear that they had their unique own colour… you took your eyes away as soon as you felt your whole body heating. It wasn’t the right moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So… are you okay?”, you asked. “My parents said they’ve spoken to you. I told them they didn’t have to come from so far, but- you see.” You shrugged slightly, embarrassed. For god’s sake, your brother just was hospitalized, not dead! “I hope they didn’t… compromise you”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Compromise. What a funny word. That was not the case at all. Why would it be? Because their parents incorrectly assumed that he and Floch were best friends and started crying about it? Because he didn’t have the courage to tell them that the note they found was his depressive letter to himself? Because he had already accepted a formal invitation to dinner? Okay, maybe he was a bit compromised. But he wouldn’t let it escalate too far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. What about you? He is your brother, you must be… ”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tired”, you sighed. “We’ve been fighting since we were kids, but things got worse in high school. I thought everything would get better once he stopped hanging out with Jaeger, but…  he hasn’t changed at all.” You made a pause and looked at Jean, searching for some kind of reaction. But he was just there, listening, his eyes kindly looking at you. You felt your face heating up. “Anyway”, you said, as you laid down on the blanket. “It’s true that I’m worried. We barely talked but… he’s still my brother. I just hope he’ll get his ass out of the Hospital as soon as possible so I can send him back myself!” Jean chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know? It’s… really easy talking to you. Thank you.” You turned your eyes towards him, your body still laid on the blanket. Your cheeks were deep red and you felt your pulse rushed. Jean slowly bended his head as he looked back at you, his eyebrows showing slight confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? I mean, I, uh, I’m glad you feel better”. Jean looked away and covered half his face with his hand. Was he just as red as you? You couldn’t tell for sure, but somehow it felt like time had stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will I see you at the dinner?” you asked, as you reincorporated to sit next to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean suddenly remembered that he had accepted to go to your place, with your parents, to spend the night with all of you. He swallowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, tonight. See you around, skywalker”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skywalker?” you laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, the… the sky, the movie… ” his blush was getting deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just messing with you”, you said with a cocky smile. Jean couldn’t help but notice that your hair was full of leaves and your eyes were as bright as the Sun. He knew, at that exact moment, that he had fallen in love with you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you tonight, Jean”.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thaks for reading!<br/>I would update a chapter weekly.<br/>If you like it feel free to leave kudos or comments! I highly appreciate it!<br/>See you next week! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sincerely, me.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, it's me! I'm glad to see you all again this week!<br/>This chapter is basically comic relief because I LOVE comedy and I LOVE this part of the show. But there's also story, don't worry, my friend. Your adventure with Jean has only begun. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I do and I highly recommend that you read this song for the first half of the chapter, you'll thank me later. Here's the link! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o-tza5YqAD4&amp;ab_channel=szin<br/>I hope you enjoy!<br/>Sincerely, me.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You what!??”, Connie shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything happened so fast I couldn’t react properly! They think I’m their hospitalized son’s best friend, so they asked me to talk about Floch! I thought… messaging through social media was credible?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um yeah, except for the fact that it’s a lie and that you don’t even know his Twitter account.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can create a fake account! It doesn’t even need content, just enough to send some private messages…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god”, Connie laughed, shaking his head. They were at Jean’s house, talking while drinking soda. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. I’ll create a fake account and send you some messages, changing the date and all the data, so you can talk about Floch tonight without making a fool of yourself, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Connie. What would I do without you?”, he laughed, sarcastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay so, what do we write? Just some college stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has to be something personal, something that proves that we were friends…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, leave it to me”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connie spent ten long minutes writing on his laptop before smiling. Then, he turned to face Jean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your honor, I think it’s perfect. Why don’t you read it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey Jean, what’s up? We’ve been too out of touch. Things have been crazy but it sucks that we don’t talk that much. But I should tell you that I think about you each night, I rub my-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you write that!??”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It already looks kinda gay, I wanted to make it believable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It has to prove that we were friends, Connie, </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Besides, how am I gonna get close to (y/n) if she thinks I was secretly dating her brother!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s right, my bad”, Connie laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Omg, I just- Just let me, I’ll write it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But I should tell you life without you has been hard-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hard?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Has been bad-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Has been ROUGH”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kinky.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jean looked at Connie’s face for three whole seconds before whispering “I’m going to kill you”. Connie was living, as he continued teasing his friend over his fake messages with his crush’s brother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I like my parents-”</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Who says that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love my parents but each day is another fight. If I’d stopping smoking drugs then everything may be al-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smoking… drugs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just fix it!”, Jean replied desperately.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"If I'd stopped smoking crack-"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Crack!?? Just-", Jean took over the computer again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If I’d stopped smoking pot then everything may be alright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll take your advice, try to be more nice. I’m turning around, wait and see.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Cause all that it takes, is a little reinvention. Is easy to change if you give it your attention.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Our friendship goes beyond, the average kind of bond...”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“But not because you’re gay”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But not because we’re gay. We’re close, but not that way! The only person that I love is my..”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yea… Wait, NO! Connie!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, couldn’t help it. I’m having the time of my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, let me finish.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, anyway, I’m getting better every day. All you gotta do is believe you can be who you wanna be.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>                                                                                                                                      Sincerely, me”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>20:00 pm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were getting ready for an awkward evening with your parents and your crush, who happened to be your annoying brother’s secret friend. To make things even more uncomfortable, you were getting dinner at your tiny apartment, the one you could only pay thanks to your parents' help. What does anyone say when they’re dining with their crush </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>their parents at the same table? This isn’t how it was supposed to go!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyway, you didn’t have time to overthink it. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to get ready soon and make it perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were finishing to tie your hair when the doorbell rang. He arrived early? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You ran as fast as you could to the door, screaming </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll open” </span>
  </em>
  <span>so your parents didn’t get in the way. But, just as always, nothing goes as planned. Your mother opened the door just in time for Jean to see you with your hair tie in your mouth and your hair all messed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, hey Jean! You’re early!” You spoke so fast that you bit your lip. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid hair tie</span>
  </em>
  <span>”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jean chuckled. “Hey, (y/n), you look b… “ his face felt suddenly heated as he saw your parents coming close to greet him. “You look fine! Yeah, what a nice day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You were already embarrassed and he had only showed up. Whatever, you had to survive the night with a pair of jeans… but not the ones you’d like to have on, to be honest. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Omg, (y/n), focus” </span>
  </em>
  <span>you thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jean, honey! It’s lovely seeing you! You look handsome with that shirt, I wished that my Floch dressed a bit more like you”. Jean was getting as embarrassed as you, he wanted to impress your parents but now he just felt like a nerd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t we just eat already?” you begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, honey, it’s almost ready. Why don’t you show Jean Floch’s room first? If this is the first time he comes to your apartment he’d probably like to see it”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Anything so we can get out of here”, you whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You appreciated the chance to get some time alone, so you took Jean to Floch’s room. As you and your brother lived together, his things were still there. His room stayed just the same. Clothes on his chair, a guitar left in the corner, some sketches on his desk…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your brother draws like this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you know? I thought the reason you two were friends was because of your shared interest. I mean, don’t get me wrong, but…” you looked at Jean from top to bottom, he was so unfairly attractive. “You don’t look like his type of… friend”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh no. You made a pause, just before friend. Was Connie right? Did this whole situation, somehow, look like he and Floch were secretly dating?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, you’re… really nice and…”, you changed the subject, trying not to get too blushed. “And he’s a jerk, you know!? He used to hang out with Jaeger and since then he rarely talks to people. He even smokes pot and then says he smells like “wet grass” because he was watering flowers. For real!? He thinks I’m stupid or something” you sighed and sat on Floch’s bed. Jean hesitated, but ended up sitting next to you. “You’re not stupid, and I’m sure Floch doesn’t think that of you. You’re smart, funny…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A dumbass”, you added, smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A dumbass, for sure”. Jean laughed slightly. “But not stupid…” His hand caressed your face, his fingers dangerously close to your lips. Jean didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he felt brave and too close to run away now. “You’re anything but stupid, you’re beautiful”. You felt your heart racing, your face heated, your breath gone. You bent your head slightly, closed your eyes, and… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guys! Dinner's ready!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of your father’s voice slapped you as hard as Elsa’s cold hands. You felt confused, embarrassed and horny. Just because your crush is close to you, smelling freckling good and touching your skin doesn’t mean you can kiss him! In your brother's room! With your parents outside! You apologised to Jean and went  quickly to the bathroom, where you washed your face with cold water. It was certainly a long, weird night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, after the “incident” things went pretty easy. Jean had a natural talent to talk to parents and the omelette you cooked seemed to be his favourite dish. After dinner, Jean showed your parents some messages he and Floch have been sending to each other on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Twitter</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So a private account, uh? Well, everybody has one, but your brother’s account just seemed… odd. Your parents, however, were happy to see the other side of Floch. That maybe his son was not as lost as they thought. The night ended quietly as you walked Jean to the door. You were so dying to kiss him. But, after everything that had happened, it was better if you didn’t rush it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll… see you at college?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure”, Jean smiled. “Unless you want to see me first, of course”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why would I-?” you suddenly remember when you almost kissed, his fingers caressing your lips. You were heating up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m joking,” Jean chuckled. “See you on monday, cupcake”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...cup-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before you could even react, Jean had already left. That stupid idiot. Who did he think he was? Cupcake? Your mother should have not served wine that night. Everything was chaotic, and confusing and exciting. And you liked him. Oh my god, you liked him so much. Stupid Floch, stupid wine, stupid Jean Kirschtein.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!<br/>Let me know what do you thinkg about the story so far!<br/>If you liked it, please consider leaving comments or kudos, I highly appreciate it!<br/>See you next week!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>